


What Service Entails

by galaxyartist4



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Sex, BDSM, Blow Jobs, Choking, Consensual Kink, Deepthroating, Dom/sub, Face-Fucking, M/M, Multi, Oral Sex, Power Play, Rough Oral Sex, Spitroasting, Threesome - M/M/M, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-04
Updated: 2019-06-04
Packaged: 2020-04-07 22:14:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19094149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galaxyartist4/pseuds/galaxyartist4
Summary: Vesim, Teldryn, and Inigo leave Solstheim and head toward Whiterun. As soon as they reach a safe place to rest, consensual mischief ensues.The character Inigo does not belong to me. He's a follower mod made by Smartbluecat that you can find on Nexus.





	What Service Entails

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Thanatopsiturvy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thanatopsiturvy/gifts).



> Continuation of 'At your service... for the right price.' Sorry for any confusion. Enjoy!
> 
> (More or less a gift for Thanatopsiturvy, they mentioned Khajiits and I ran with it)

            Strands of dark hair blew into narrowed silver-grey eyes, then were brushed away with a large hand. The wind blew at a brisk pace, scudding the boat along so quickly that it smacked against the waves, blowing spray up into the face of the man who stood at the prow.

            “Bend your knees, Inigo!” he called cheerfully in response to a noise from his Khajiit companion, demonstrating the motion in time with the bumping deck.

            “Mr. Dragonfly says he does not like bumpy boat rides,” the Khajiit yowled, holding onto the rail as if his life depended on it, his claws digging into the wood. “And I do not like them either.”

            “You’ll be fine, Ing,” the dark-haired man replied, turning back to watch the horizon, his gold hoop earrings swinging. “Just breathe deeply.”

            A Dunmer man in chitin armor stood nearby, leaning on the wooden rail with the casual ease of a person who knows boats well. He rubbed a hand over his lean, dark face, obviously tired of his companion’s antics.

            “S’wits,” he muttered, doing his best to ignore the banter so he could appreciate the sensation of wind blowing through his mohawk. He wasn’t a huge fan of boat rides, but his travels had taken him onto many ships, and he was well accustomed to the rocking motion that made some people sick. Speaking of which, the blue Khajiit was looking a bit ill.

            “I am not feeling… hurp… at my best,” the Khajiit said with a smothered belch. “I am going to go keep the stern company. I feel that we will get to know each other very well.” He teetered off to the back of the boat to the amusement of the Imperial at the bow. His eyes landed casually on the Dunmer, who stared back with feigned disinterest. The Imperial’s mouth twitched into a grin.

            “Don’t look so smug, sera,” the man said, an odd expression flitting briefly across his grinning face. “It’s not becoming.”

            Teldryn Sero scowled. Something in the man’s tone managed to twist the respectful term into a sort of insult. Ever since their first encounter, he had gotten under Teldryn’s skin. The Imperial didn’t seem to be able to resist the urge to needle him ceaselessly. Part of him was tempted to set a fire under the man’s slightly beaky nose to teach him some respect, and part of him was entertained by the man’s subtly and wit. A bubble of something that could have been irritation or possibly something else rose in his stomach as he remembered how he had first met the man, but despite the rather intimate nature of their first meeting, the man hadn’t even attempted to touch him once in the days since. He wasn’t entirely sure if he was glad of the fact, or slightly disappointed.

            “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Vesim,” he replied blithely, having reigned in his annoyance, “I’m not smug at all… and I care very little about what you think is becoming or not.”

            Vesim laughed, a deep, full-throated sound that was pleasant to listen to, and Teldryn struggled to suppress a grin in response.

            “If you say so, sera,” Vesim said easily, turning back to the sea. “Anyway, we’re close to Windhelm, I can see the docks.”

            “That is the best news I had heard all day,” Inigo said, appearing next to Teldryn, “though I do not like Windhelm at all.” Only long years of training kept Teldryn from jumping in surprise at the Khajiit’s sudden presence. He rubbed a hand over his face again and sighed deeply.

            “I agree with Inigo,” Teldryn grumbled. “Windhelm is not suited to my tastes. To many thick-skulled Nords. I’ll go get my helmet.”

            “Don’t muss your fur,” Vesim told Inigo, his eyes following the retreating Dunmer. “We’ll be in and out, only long enough to retrieve my horses.”

            “It is not that I do not trust you, my friend,” the Khajiit replied. “I just do not like this stone death trap.”

            “Me neither, Ing.” Vesim looked distant as he spoke, his eagle-like profile silhouetted against the pale blue sky. “We’ll be there shortly, like it or not. Get your things together and be ready to disembark.” The telltale smell of acrid smoke and old fish was already drifting through the air toward them, presumably coming from the Windhelm docks.

            “I much prefer the smell of ash to this… this stink,” Teldryn said, returning from below deck with his helmet under one arm. Vesim chuckled dryly. He looked sideways at the Dunmer, a wicked smile on his lips.

            “If your service costs five hundred septims,” he murmured, “I wonder how much extra I’ll have to pay for your entertaining insights.”

            Teldryn stiffened, feeling an unbidden flush rising up his neck.

            “The insights are merely gifts,” he said snidely, forcing the memory of their first meeting deeper into the back of his mind. “So are the insults.”

            Vesim leaned closer to him, eyes full of mischief, and lowered his voice.

            “And the other things…?”

            The hair on the back of Teldryn’s neck stood on end at the wolfish look on the other man’s face, and something in his lower belly tightened. He shrugged, ignoring the strange, instinctual fear that was slithering down his spine.

            “Unrelated,” he said.

            “Ah,” Vesim replied, his eyes immediately losing their almost feral look. “Back to strictly business then.”

            The boat bumped gently against the dock, Vesim jumping over the rail and landing neatly on the wooden boards. He helped some of the crew tie the boat to the moorings, then waited by the gangplank for his companions to join him, talking quietly to the captain. The two spoke in hushed tones until Teldryn and Inigo joined them, then they shook hands, having come to some sort of agreement.

            “Until next time, friend,” the captain said with a salute, then returned to his vessel.

 

            “What was that about?” Inigo asked as they left the docks and headed for the stables.

            “Oh, captain Gjolund is an old friend,” Vesim replied casually, adjusting the straps on one of his steel gauntlets as they passed a Windhelm guard. Seeing the guard’s outfit, Teldryn realized that Vesim was dressed in very similar garb, only with a different colored hold scarf and no helmet. He opened his mouth to say something, but Inigo asked first.

            “Why do you dress as a guard again?”

            “Because it amuses me.”

            Teldryn rolled his eyes beneath his helmet.

            “I can hear your eyes rolling, Teldryn,” Vesim called back to him. “Tell us what you really think.”

            “I think this is a horrid city,” he responded, voice dry. “I lived in the Gray Quarter of Windhelm for years... it's a wretched place full of bitter Dunmer. Let's be done here quickly.”

            “The man speaks nothing but truth,” Inigo hissed, avoiding another guard. “We should leave as soon as we can.”

            “Alright, alright,” Vesim said with a snort, walking faster. “You two complain an awful lot.”

            Teldryn looked up at the towering walls of the city as they moved toward the front gates. Windhelm always made him feel trapped and small, two things he hated feeling. The years he had spent in Windhelm had not been happy in the slightest. Though he had lived in the Gray Quarter, the slum of the city, the main portion of Windhelm looked and smelled as it always had, and it made Teldryn feel a bit ill.

            To his and Inigo’s relief, they reached the front gate only minutes later and passed through without any issues. The guards seemed to recognize Vesim almost immediately, and nearly skittered out of their way, much to Teldryn’s amusement.

 

            Outside the stables, Vesim stopped.

            “Wait here,” he told his companions. “I’ll be back in a minute.” He walked up the stairs and disappeared inside the building.

            “He is a strange one, isn’t he?” Inigo said, turning to Teldryn.

            “Yes,” Teldryn agreed simply. His thoughts drifted back to the room in the Retching Netch, and he felt heat rising up his neck again. _I’m glad I’m wearing this helmet,_ he thought guiltily, his eyes flicking toward the nearby Khajiit. The image of Vesim’s broad chest, slicked with sweat and sticky, pearly fluid, blazed in his mind’s eye. He gulped. His pride demanded that he think of something else immediately, but he couldn’t.

            “Are you alright, friend?” Inigo asked suddenly, turning to look at him. “You’re beginning to smell… different.”

            “You must be imagining things,” Teldryn replied, trying in vain to keep his voice calm.

            “Are you sure?” Inigo tipped his nose up and sniffed. Teldryn was saved from having to answer by Vesim’s reappearance.

            “All set,” the Imperial said. “Let’s get moving.”

            “It’s about time,” Teldryn replied, following his employer. “I can think of many other places I’d rather be than here.”

 

            It was dark when they finally reached Whiterun. They had ridden hard, and only encountered a few beasts and bandits along the way to slow their progress.

            “I’ll take care of the horses,” Inigo purred, dismounting gracefully. “They deserve a good brushing, which is something we have in common.”

            Vesim laughed at the Khajiit’s words jumped out of the saddle.

            “Up to the city gates then.”

            Teldryn followed Vesim as he strode away.

            “This is Whiterun then... the pride of Skyrim? Doesn't look like much to me. Now Blacklight on the other hand, that's a proper city,” he commented, looking up at the city walls and patrolling guards. Vesim shot him a surprised look.

            “Handsome _and_ opinionated?” Vesim said with a good-natured grin. “I’m shocked that you’re still single, sera.”

            Teldryn snorted.

            “I’m not surprised that you’re still single, rude as you are,” he shot back. “Even despite your good looks and charming wits.”

            “You think I’m charming?”

            Teldryn scratched his neck and chose not to reply. After a moment, Vesim shrugged and continued up the road. The guards at the gate noted their approach, then stiffened as they drew closer. One whispered to the other and they hurried to open the gates, nearly tripping over themselves in their haste.

            “It’s an honor to welcome you back, thane,” one of them said courteously.

            “I hope you’ll find the city in proper order, thane,” said the other, with equal respect, and they both bowed.

            “I wasn’t aware of your status here,” Teldryn said, his voice surprised behind his helmet.

            “I try not to make a big deal out of things like that,” Vesim said. “It doesn’t matter much anyway. What matters is this.” He indicated the small house in front of them. “Breezehome.”

            Teldryn was a bit impressed in spite of himself. Owning property in Skyrim that hadn’t been in your family for generations required a substantial amount of money.

            “Nice place you have here. I never knew you were so wealthy,” he said doing his best to conceal the admiration in his voice.

            “How do you think I can afford you?” Vesim responded, grinning wickedly. “As you’ve reminded me, you aren’t cheap.”

            Teldryn grumbled into his helmet, wishing the man wasn’t so good at ruffling his feathers. A moment later, the door swung open and a woman leaned out, looking surprised.

            “Welcome home, my thane,” she said. “You’ve been away for quite a long time.”

            “I’ve been busy, Lyds,” he laughed, gripping her hand and shaking it. “Lydia, this is Teldryn, Teldryn, Lydia.”

            “Nice to meet you,” Lydia said, curiosity plain on her face.

            “The pleasure is mine.” They shook hands.

            “Lydia, will you do me a favor and buy these things, then treat yourself to a drink at the Bannered Mare? I know you’re partial to the brew there.”

            “Of course, my Thane,” she said, taking the list the Imperial produced. “I’ll be sure to take my time.” She winked as she passed Teldryn, and a sense of foreboding settled over him.

            “What did she mean by that?” the Dunmer asked, pulling his helmet off.

            “Nothing to worry about.” Vesim stretched, yawned, and headed toward the stairs. Sighing deeply, Teldryn followed him up into the loft area.

            “We’ll rest here for a few days,” Vesim said, sitting on the double bed and removing his gauntlets. “Then we can figure out what to do. And in the meantime…” He began to unwind the scarf around his neck, kicking off his boots at the same time. “Inigo tells me you’ve been smelling frustrated today, sera,” he said. Teldryn snorted, the tips of his pointed ears beginning to heat up.

            “I don’t know why he thinks that,” the Dunmer retorted. “Plus, its none of his business.”

            “You’re blushing, sera.” Vesim pulled off his chainmail shirt, his eyes not leaving Teldryn’s face. With a wordless growl of frustration, the elf dropped his helmet on a nearby chair and began to undo the straps of his armor, then stopped.

            “You know,” he drawled, “if you want me out of this, you’re gonna have to work for it.” Vesim’s eyes lit up and he got up from the bed, shucking his underclothes as he went. He moved closer to Teldryn, and the Dunmer felt a twinge in his groin. The Imperial smelled pleasantly of sweat and woodsmoke, _just like the last time they had..._ Stopping in front of the other man, Vesim reached out and slowly unbuckled the first strap of the breastplate, then the next.

            “You turn a beautiful purple when you blush, sera,” Vesim murmured, leaning forward, his hands still working at the amour straps. The breastplate slipped to the floor and the man slid it out of the way with his toe, turning his focus toward the chitin arm guards.

            “I’m surprised you haven’t demanded that I ask first,” Vesim commented, bending down to press a kiss to the exposed skin of Teldryn’s neck. The elf shivered, feeling a growing pressure in his greaves.

            “I’m enjoying watching you do the work, for once,” he rasped, his blood-red eyes hazy. Vesim chuckled, pausing in his work to grip Teldryn’s chin and tilt his face up for a startlingly sweet, lingering kiss. Teldryn let out a breath as Vesim broke away, his heart stammering in his chest.

            “Let’s get… the rest of this… off,” the Imperial grunted, yanking the leathery jerkin over Teldryn’s head. “Why does this take so long to remove?”

            “Simply to spite you.” Teldryn looked up with a sly smile, and Vesim kissed him again. The man’s lips were surprisingly soft, though his beard tickled the Dunmer’s skin. Giving in to the frustration, Teldryn parted his lips, allowing Vesim to plunder his mouth. The Imperial man sighed with pleasure, his hands roaming over Teldryn’s bare back as he nibbled the elf’s lower lip.

            “Are you beginning to regret letting me hire you?” Vesim asked when he pulled back, panting slightly.

            “Not yet, but maybe you’ll regret hiring me after this.” Dark hands clamped on the man’s shoulders and pushed him to his knees. “It’s time for lesson two: be quiet and do as you’re told.”

            “That’s two—” Vesim began, but Teldryn cut him off.

            “Quiet, I said.”

            Vesim clamped his mouth shut.

            “No, no,” Teldryn said wickedly, “I never said I wanted your mouth shut. I just said I wanted quiet. Or more accurately, I want to hear you choking on my cock.”

            A delicate flush spread over Vesim’s fine cheekbones and he took a deep breath, but he remained silent.

            “So well behaved,” Teldryn purred, undoing his greaves and letting them fall to the floor. He palmed his hardening erection through the fabric of his loincloth, watching Vesim’s eyes follow his every movement. “Now be a good boy and tell me what you want.”

            “Your cock,” the man said immediately. Teldryn bent down and slapped him lightly across the face.

            “Address me politely,” Teldryn snapped. The Imperial man let out a soft moan, and Teldryn saw a telltale outline in his groin. “You like that? You want me to do it again?” the elf asked softly. Vesim nodded, his eyes half-lidded and his cheeks flushed. “Say please.”

            “Please, sera,” the Imperial whispered. Teldryn slapped him again, harder this time, so the sound rang through the room, and Vesim whined, his erection straining against his loincloth.

            “Now tell me what you want, politely.”

            Vesim scooted closer on his knees, his right cheek turning a flaming red.

            “Your cock, sera, please,” he said, looking up with pleading eyes. Teldryn grinned.

            “With pleasure.” He pulled his loincloth down and gripped his cock firmly at its base. “Come here and open your mouth.”

            Vesim shuffled closer and opened his mouth obediently. Instead of immediately indulging, Teldryn gently slapped his erection against the side of the man’s face.

            “Lick it,” he commanded, and Vesim complied, turning his head to lick along the length of Teldryn’s shaft. The dark elf let out a low groan. He took the man’s head in his hands.

            “Not to break the mood, but if you need me to stop at any time, feel free to do so. I like my partners hot and submissive, but willing,” he said. Vesim nodded and opened his mouth again, a look of bliss in his silvery eyes. “Good boy.”

            Still gripping the sides of the man’s head, Teldryn slowly slid his cock into Vesim’s waiting mouth. The slick heat was pure bliss on his aching erection. Vesim’s tongue wriggled against the underside of Teldryn’s shaft, sending a spike of pleasure into his stomach. Saliva glistened on his skin as Teldryn pulled nearly all the way out of Vesim’s mouth, then thrust back in again.

            “Your mouth feels so good,” the elf breathed. “It’s incredible. Now take a deep breath.”

            Vesim obeyed, then Teldryn grasped the back of his head and pushed him down onto his cock, reveling in the feeling of the man’s mouth and throat constricting around his length. He held the Imperial firmly as the man began to wriggle, then let go. Vesim pulled back, saliva trailing from his lower lip, and he gasped desperately for air. Moaning, the elf reached down to grip Vesim’s head again.

            “Ready for more?” he asked.  

            “Yes, sera,” Vesim gasped, ignoring the spit that had landed in his beard. “Please, sera.”

            “Mmm, I like when you beg like that.”

            Teldryn was standing placidly, cock buried deep in Vesim’s throat, when the bedroom door opened.

            “Whoops,” Inigo said. “…I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

            “I take it you’re finished with the horses?” Teldryn said blandly, still holding Vesim down and enjoying the feeling of the man’s lips tightening around the base of his shaft.

            “Yes, I am,” the Khajiit replied, his amber eyes flicking awkwardly between Teldryn and Vesim. “Sorry.”

            “Don’t apologize,” the elf said with a moan, letting Vesim breathe for a moment before pushing him down again. “In fact, you’ve given me an idea.” He stroked a surprisingly tender hand over the Imperial’s dark hair. “How do you feel about an audience?”

            Vesim moaned around the obstruction in his throat.

            “That sounded like a yes to me.” Teldryn said mischievously. “Come on in, and shut the door behind you.”

            Inigo hesitated, clearly feeling a bit embarrassed, but he moved forward and closed the wooden door carefully.

            “Mm, you’re obedient too,” Teldryn hummed, letting Vesim breathe again.

            “Years of practice,” the Khajiit replied, grinning toothily.

            “You’ll have trouble silencing that one, though,” Vesim quipped. Teldryn frowned.

            “If you have breath to talk,” he growled, yanking hard on Vesim’s hair, “you have breath to suck my dick. Mouth, now.” Vesim obeyed greedily, saliva dripping down into his beard. “Good boy.”

            “I must admit, this is a bit awkward,” Inigo said, looking around the room. “I usually don’t come in here. Plus, you’re choking my friend.”

            “Oh, he’s enjoying it. Right, _yi com_?” Teldryn asked, letting Vesim’s mouth pop off his cock.

            “Yes, sera,” he panted, licking his swollen lips. “More, please, sera.”

            “If you wish,” the elf replied, playfully rubbing his glistening erection against Vesim’s cheek before pushing into his mouth yet again.

            “I guess that’s good, then,” Inigo said doubtfully, but Teldryn could see the way his eyes followed Vesim’s movements.

            “Come on, Khajiit,” Teldryn said. “Enjoy the… show. Take full advantage of it, if you know what I mean.”

            Inigo’s ears perked up, and he dropped into a chair, beginning to take off his ebony armor.

            “Good. Now,” the Dunmer purred, turning back to Vesim, and letting the man breathe once more. “I’ve been wanting to fill that rude mouth of yours with my cum since you first insulted me.”

            Vesim let out a deep, lusty moan that resonated through his chest. Precum had leaked through his loincloth at the place where the tip of his neglected cock strained against the fabric.

            “Please, sera,” the man whined.

            “Deep breath,” Teldryn warned, and waited just long enough for the man to comply, then began to vigorously thrust into his mouth.

            “I’m so close,” Teldryn grunted, his thighs cramping as his groin tightened almost painfully. Pleasure had been building steadily inside him for the past several minutes, and he was nearly at his limit. “Now,” he panted. “Swallow my load like the good, submissive slut you are.” Groaning, Vesim nodded and tightened his lips, looking up at Teldryn with a subservient, lust-filled gaze. The Dunmer buried his cock in the other man’s mouth, and the tight, hot wetness finally sent him over the edge. He came hard, letting his seed spill down Vesim’s throat in blissful spurts. Vesim swallowed it all, as if the sticky liquid was pure, cold water and he was a man dying of thirst.

            “Good boy,” Teldryn gasped, letting his cock spring free of Vesim’s mouth. The man inhaled deeply and coughed.

            “That was entertaining to watch,” Inigo said. “Now what?”

            “He deserves a reward for being so obedient,” Teldryn replied. “Other than my cum, of course.” He reached down to run a hand through Vesim’s sweaty hair in an oddly possessive gesture. “Are you alright? Yes? You want more? Good, get on the bed. No, not like that, I want to see your ass in the air.”

            “Like this?” Vesim asked, positioning himself on his hands and knees.

            “Exactly,” Teldryn hummed, gripping himself in one hand. “Now, I want you to take off your loincloth… yes, and touch yourself, slowly. Yes, like that.”

            Seeing the Imperial man in such a vulnerable position turned Teldryn on more than he wanted to admit. His cock twitched, already beginning to harden again under his fingers.

            “You’re well equipped,” he commented, noticing a bottle of oil on the bed stand. A moment later, oil in hand, Teldryn moved into position behind Vesim. The Imperial whined quietly as he felt a slippery finger press into him, slicking his entrance.

            “Please, sera,” he whispered.

            “Patience, _yi com_ ,” the elf said softly, using the same pet name in his native tongue that he’d used before. “Patience.”

            Exercising some patience himself, he moved his finger slowly, stroking rhythmically as Vesim began to moan and rock against him. A movement from the other side of the small room caught Teldryn’s attention. Inigo was awkwardly touching himself through his loincloth, eyes fixed on the pair on the bed.

            “Come closer,” Teldryn said to him, beckoning with his free hand. Inigo stood hesitantly and moved forward, approaching the bed with soft, padding steps.

            “Loincloth off,” Teldryn commanded. Inigo obeyed. “So, beast people are quite similar to humans and mer,” the Dunmer said, looking into Inigo’s groin, “but… barbed?”

            “Soft barbs only,” Inigo muttered, stroking his erection with a tentative, clawed hand.

            “Wanna… feel…” Vesim grunted reaching out a hand.

            “Let him touch, then,” Teldryn told the Khajiit. Inigo moved forward another few steps until he was in reach. A gasping Vesim took the offered erection in one hand, gently feeling the fleshy barbs with his thumb and moving his fingers along its length. He continued to explore the organ with his hand as Teldryn made him gasp and twitch.

            Suddenly, a deep, animalistic growl tore from Vesim’s abused throat. Inigo looked up, surprised by the renewed grip on his erection, and saw that Teldryn had sunk his entire length into the Imperial’s ass.

            “Sorry I didn’t warn you,” Teldryn teased, wriggling his hips to make the man moan again. Inigo chuckled.

            “Amusing,” the Khajiit man said. He took a step closer, looking down at Vesim.

            “Your friend looks like he needs some attention,” the Dunmer murmured, beginning to move his hips. A gentle bump from Teldryn encouraged Vesim to scoot forward on the bed so he could take Inigo’s erection into his already salivating mouth.

            Inigo yowled softly and bucked forward, thrusting from one end of the Imperial while Teldryn matched his rhythm from the other end. The sound of flesh meeting flesh and grunting, muffled moans filled the room for a while.

            Inigo came first, pulling his cock out of Vesim’s mouth with a snarl to shoot his release over the man’s blissful face.

            “Whoop,” the Khajiit panted. “My apologies, friend.”

            Vesim shook his head, unable to speak through his panting, gasping breaths.

            “Will you cum for me now, _yi com_?” Teldryn asked softly, reaching around to stroke Vesim’s leaking cock.

            “Anything for you, sera,” Vesim moaned, a touch of the usual impertinence in his words. A stinging slap rang out as Teldryn left a red hand print on the Imperial’s ass cheek.

            “Cum,” Teldryn ordered, the movement of his hips faltering slightly, and Vesim came, roaring like a bear and fisting his hands in the bed’s furs. Moments later, Teldryn pulled out and shot sticky ropes of cum onto the Imperial’s back, letting the ecstasy thunder through his already sensitive core.

            Vesim flopped onto the bed with an extremely satisfied sigh.

            “Are you alright?” Teldryn asked, his eyes sweeping the sweaty, muscular length of the man’s body.

            “Yes, sera, thanks for asking. By the Divines, I needed that,” Vesim wheezed. Teldryn dropped down next to him while Inigo moved to clean himself off and dress. The elf offered Vesim a clean rag, which he accepted.

            “I needed it too, but… I feel like I’m too old for this,” Teldryn huffed.

            “And how old are you, sera?” Vesim asked, pausing his cleaning and rolling over with genuine curiosity in his eyes. The dark elf looked up at the ceiling, his face pensive. The afterglow from his orgasm still warmed him, loosening his muscles and easing his usual grumpiness, and it made him feel like talking a little. The wrinkles around his eyes deepened.

            “Over two hundred years, give or take.”

            “Two hundred years?”

            “That’s what I said,” Teldryn grunted, irritation creeping back into his voice.

            “You are old, then,” Vesim murmured, reaching over to smooth the wrinkles next to Teldryn’s right eye in a gesture that felt strangely intimate, in spite of what they had just done. The Dunmer shooed his hand away, trying and failing not to blush a little.

            “Maybe in Imperial years,” he snapped. Vesim propped himself up on his elbow, a fond look on his face.

            “Settle down, _bormahsebormah_ ,” he said, using a word in a language Teldryn didn’t understand, but he suspected the meaning. Instead of protesting, he tilted his face up to meet the Imperial’s soft kiss.

            “Don’t be impertinent with me,” Teldryn murmured against the other man’s lips.

            “Ah, but I’m paying you to deal with my impertinence, remember, sera?”

            Chuckling in defeated amusement, Teldryn pulled Vesim down to kiss him again.

            “Yes, I remember. My age has yet to affect my memory, young one.”

            “I may be young to you, sera,” Vesim replied, a fiery twinkle in his silver-grey eyes and amusement in his voice, “but my soul has the age of a dragon.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it! Just to clarify, 'yi com' means 'my sweet' in Dunmeris, and 'bormahsebormah' means 'grandfather' in Dovahzuul.


End file.
